Before The Angels
by LunaryEclipse
Summary: Hermione wakes up feeling weird. Her magic's off and she feels an unusual pull in her chest. What is happening to her? And what does Draco Malfoy and his silver eyes have to do with it? Veela!inspired. A re-write of my old story 'Saviour Salvái'. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1: A pull and a silver light

Hermione knew that something was off the moment she woke up. It wasn't anything specific, only a feeling deep in her chest but she had little doubt that something had changed drastically since yesterday evening when she went to bed.

Having yet to actually open her eyes and face the day, Hermione reached blindly for the wand she knew was lying on her bed stand, and cast a simple _Tempus_ spell. She slowly opened her eyes blinking at the sudden and unexpected light as the air unexpectedly was filled with glowing numbers, some, it seemed, ever growing, others dwindling before her. She saw at least ten different times counting up even showing milliseconds as they showed time from what she assumed was all around the world.

With her suspicion of change confirmed Hermione warily waved her wand to make the numbers disappear.

They did.

So did every number in all of the books stacked up against her bedroom wall. Shrugging the strangeness off, Hermione attempted to walk towards her shower only to change her mind when she realized that she would have to perform magic to even turn on the damn thing. She ended up simply going to the bathroom to freshen up and brush her teeth before going down for breakfast.

She had only just left the bathroom, however, when she felt a sharp twinge in her chest and fell to the floor as her legs gave in. Hermione gasped from the sudden pain and odd feeling, it almost felt as if her heart was being pulled towards- something…

The brunette took a few minutes to get used to the feeling before she attempted to stand again, tentatively making her way over to her wardrobe for a change of clothes. She had only just reached the closet before she remembered that she would need magic to even open it. Growling in frustration and pain but not quite in the mood to continue her day wearing just her (slytherin) green nightgown she walked shakily out to the headgirls' shared common room and called for Luna Lovegood, whose room was opposite to Hermiones.

Since it was their final year at Hogwarts and everyone had been under such a heavy amount of pressure since the war had finally ended and Voldemort had fallen, Dumbledore had decided to split the tasks of the Head boy and –girl up into four people, one from each house, thereby dividing up the pressure and responsibilities to a more manageable level. Hermione had been chosen as the obvious Gryffindor representative, while Luna was a general surprise for all who did not know her intimately. Justin Finch-Fletchley was head boy from Hufflepuff, and Draco Malfoy had been chosen from Slytherin. The latter had caused uproar at three of four tables at the announcement but now, three months into the school year, things had calmed down and most seemed to realize that the blonde had definitely changed, perhaps even for the better.

Hermione only had to call out once for Luna to hear her and come running to see what was going on.

"Good morning Hermione", she said in her usual calm voice and a small smile, "Can I help you with something? Why are you standing like that?" She gestured to the way Hermione was currently leaning against the wall as if it took real effort to remain standing.

"Hey Luna," Hermione smiled and the pulling feeling seemed to loosen its grasp on her so she could stand on her own again. She breathed a few times to test the sudden lack of pain before returning her attention to her friend. "I was wondering… Could I get you to open my wardrobe for me? I think I'm coming down with something and my magic is behaving weird…"

Hermione knew this was more than a small flu, but she had no wish to worry anyone until she had more information to go on. Her chest felt as normal as ever and she felt calm enough to try to think rationally. What could this be?

"Sure", Lunas voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she smiled as her friend returned to her own quarters to get her wand.

It took less than thirty seconds for Luna to return and they both walked to Hermiones room where Luna performed a minor _Alohomora_ with no ill effects. Hermione thanked her and laughed as Luna only brushed her off with a mention of the abnormal amount of Nargles currently residing above Hermiones bed. With a wave Luna left for breakfast and Hermione started to change into her altered school robes.

Since the war and the sudden unexpected news of her parents death in a muggle car accident in Australia (oh, the irony), Hermione had taken to wear more black than strictly necessary. Her skirt, which had always been longer than strictly necessary, had been charmed back to its original length –or possibly a bit shorter- and was now a pitch black colour, matching her shirt and robes. The only colour found on her clothes was her Headgirl badge, gleaming with her golden and ruby house colours. She never did much in makeup, as her eyelashes already were long and dark enough for her eyes to be emphasized, but she enjoyed the smudged look of a bit of eyeliner for no real reason, so she always drew on a dark line before leaving for breakfast. 

Hermione had hardly walked more than a few feet away from the portrait of an angel with a burning sword, which hid the entrance to her quarters, before her chest felt as if it was going to collapse from an unseen pressure, pulling her backwards the other way down the hallway.

Hermione realized, startled, that she had no control over her own body as it raced down the hallway, turning at the stairs and pounding down, down, down. After three staircases Hermione realized that she was well on her way towards the dungeons. She tried desperately to regain control over her body, but found that she could do no more than follow its lead as it sprinted down another set of stairs. Panic was starting to set in. Why was she running? And towards what? And what was it that frightened her so?

Hermione could feel a deep sense of fright; she was genuinely scared of something, terrified in fact. She knew, rationally that only a few things could have the same effect she was having now, and combined with the things that happened this morning, she was afraid she might only have few options as to where her problem was:

She knew it was not a blood related disease, nor a curse. As her entire family was muggleborn there was little risk she could have any curses kicking in anytime soon.

She was not pregnant, that was for sure; and while pregnant witches had been known to have outbursts of magic, they were nowhere near as powerful as the one she had experienced, and this would not explain the current events, Hermione thought, as her body took a sharp turn to the left and passed the potions classroom taking another turn she had never even seen before and continuing her wild run down a small hallway.

The only other option seemed to be that she had been chosen as a magical creatures destined mate. Mates had often been seen to receive nearly as powerful magic as their partner and it would certainly explain the running, as everyone knew the protective nature in both creature and mate, even subconsciously. However, having a mate would require at least for them to have physically touched for her to react like so, and then she would surely have known about it, right?

As she ran the Headgirl started to feel the strain on her legs and her lungs seemed to tighten with the pull when she took another turn and, without warning, slammed into a wall, bringing her to a complete and painful stop. She felt her shoulder take most of the hit with a sickening crunch but somehow this stopped mattering the second she laid eyes on the other figure lying unconscious on the ground by the wall, right next to where Hermione had been brought to her painful stop.

Immediately snapping into action but knowing she could use no magic, Hermione used her uninjured arm to check for a pulse on the figure and had to hold back a scream when she not only did not find one, but her hand came back covered in crimson blood, still warm enough to drip from her fingers. Knowing that she would have to at least perform CPR and stop the bleeding from wherever it was, Hermione ignored her own pain and used both arms, one of which she was sure was broken, to turn the boy over.

The blood seemed to be everywhere but she found no wounds on him as she turned him for a better view. She knew time was short and that she could time to heal later, now she needed him to regain a pulse. Only now, when she finally got to look at his face and noticed the silver hair, the angular jaw and the high cheekbones, she realized that she was staring directly into the face of Draco Malfoy.

A scream was heard in the Great Hall at breakfast time a Monday morning. A scream that, while loud enough to make every student and a few teachers wince in pain, seemed to originate further away than they should have been able to hear. The entire hall fell quiet for one, stunned moment, until Dumbledore seemed to realize what had happened and literally ran from his seat, followed shortly by Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. The silence that had fallen in the hall left with the teachers as the younger students panicked and everyone else was trying to guess what was going on. Nobody guessed right.

It took Hermione a few moments to realize that she was crying and clutching the body of her childhood enemy and when she did she honestly did not care to dwell on the thought. Distraught and in anguish she never noticed how her own hand raised upwards to where Malfoy's heart rested under her fingers. She did not hear the ancient words pouring from her own mouth in a steady stream and she never saw the lilac and silver lights that surrounded the two of them in a warm and healing cocoon. She did, however, feel the fluttering of Malfoy's heart and feel it return to normal as if it had always been there. And she did see, clear as day, when his eyes snapped open and looked into hers in a mixture of astonishment, shock and confusion.

Draco was confused. He was quite sure he had died. In fact, he was still not convinced he hadn't.

When he had felt the first hit from yet another group of hateful children from the war who had lost someone and blamed him for everything he was sure that this time would be the one to bring him down. His wand was kicked down the hall and he already felt wrong in a weird way, like his heart was trying to pull him somewhere. He was in no shape to defend himself.

Only when the assailants heard the sharp crack of a snapping bone after a hard kick to the spine, did they flee from fear of being caught. And at that time he had already been lost to the dark unconsciousness that was, it seemed, death. He had no way of knowing that he would wake up in the arms of none other than a crying Hermione Granger, with whom he was on shaky terms, at best, surrounded by purple and silver lights.

Why did his chest feel warm?

He should have thought about this, but instead he found himself lost in her amber eyes and the tears that fell in a steady stream from her face and onto his. Slowly, and without warning, she slumped against the wall, unconscious, and he followed her within the second with his head still in her lap and her hand on his heart.

A little down the hallway, three figures stepped out from the shadows and stared at the pair lying now passed out by each other.

"What in Merlins name is happening?" the smaller figure exclaimed, hurrying down toward the pair, who were still shining with the remains of silver light. "Dumbledore?" She looked back at him briefly when he stepped up to help, levitating the girl so that the boy could get checked for wounds. None were found.

"If I knew, dear Poppy, I would tell you, but it seems that even I cannot see everything that is happening to my students" He looked sad at the thought and stroked his long white beard thoughtfully.

"How are they doing?" Minerva asked tentatively as Pomfrey levitated Malfoy as well and allowed her to clean the blood of the tiles on the floor and walls with a quick _Scourgify_.

"I don't... There isn't a single scratch on either of them! Albus, how can this be? Even her scar has healed!" The nurse lifted Hermiones sleeve up to show a smooth arm with no trace of the once so ugly scar spelling the ugly word 'Mudblood', a present from Bellatrix LeStrange. "I know for a fact that that specific wound was made with a cursed blade, she should have never been able to get rid of that scar, not if she lived for a million years." Poppy was starting to sound hysterical so Minerva put an arm around her, calming her slightly.

"Albus," Minerva asked, "What does this mean?"

She received a resigned look but no answer, as Dumbledore simply started to move towards the hospital wing with a levitating Hermione in front of him.

The two women shared a worried look as they followed him, Malfoy slowly moving between them


	2. Chapter 2: You're burning with me

Nothing was ever to stop Hermione Granger from studying. Not even being in the infirmary for exhausting her own magic, especially not when she didn't even remember doing so.

But, whenever she looked towards the bed of Draco Malfoy, she somehow felt relieved enough to stop protesting being bedridden and that made Madam Pomfrey soft enough to permit Hermione to get one of her books so that she wouldn't fall behind on everything.So for now, Hermione was sat in her bed, supported by several pillows and covers, reading a rather dry tome on the Art of Potion Making Vol. III and chewing on the end of her quill in between taking notes.

She would regularly and without explanation, even from herself, glance towards the slytherin Headboys bed, as if checking for any life signs. There had been few as of yet, but his chest rose and fell regularly, and Pansy Parkinson sat by his side, seemingly writing in a notebook she had brought with her when she had arrived hours ago after lunch and the news had been told by Dumbledore himself.

The official story seemed to be that Malfoy had been attacked in the hallway and Hermione had heard the ruckus and run down only just in time to save his life. It was close enough to the truth that no one would question it, and it seemed to be enough for Parkinson to announce a truce between the two girls when she had first arrived, tearstained and worried sick for her friend.

Hermione had wholeheartedly agreed and the two had been sitting in a comfortable silence for hours now, the air of silence only broken by the sound of scratching pens or the turning of a parchment page.

Malfoy started to stir around dinner time, just as Parkinson was about to leave, but she was allowed to stay under strong reprimands to get something to eat from the kitchens later so that Malfoy would have a familiar face to wake up to.

It only took him a few minutes to fully wake after that, and his eyes opened slowly after Madam Pomfrey had left, telling both girls to get her if anything seemed out of the ordinary. They had both agreed and were now watching Malfoy for any signs of anything seeming wrong.

He seemed to notice this immediately and let out a tired groan, "You could at least pretend not to stare," he stated with a sleepy voice, "Please, look all you want, just waking up here…" He grumbled at their giggles as he pushed himself up and took a look around the infirmary.

"What time is it?"

Pansy was the first to answer with a quick _Tempus_ , showing the time to be just after 8pm.

"You've been asleep since this morning. How are you feeling?" She asked with a worried expression as she laid her notebook down on the stand beside his bed.

"Surprisingly, I feel… Good?" Malfoy seemed shocked at the mere thought. His hand subconsciously seemed to reach for a spot on his lower back, but he stopped himself and pretended to just move a pillow behind himself, so he could lean against the wall.

"What happened?" He asked, this time looking towards Hermione who had stopped reading the second he had stirred the first time and was now staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"You…" She started, but found that she had trouble finding the proper words to express herself.

"You were attacked," Parkinson offered at the helpless expression she received from Hermione, and she continued, "Apparently you were knocked out and Granger here found you in the hallway when she heard the fight. She saved your life!"

Malfoy nodded and looked between the two girls with a puzzled look.

"Truce?" he asked Parkinson, who nodded and Hermione did the same when he turned to her, "She saved your life, Drake," Parkinson stated in a sure voice, "I don't care who it is, if they're saving your life they're good enough. –Even if they're Gryffindor bookworms" She added, with a smirk –a kind one.

Hermione returned it with measure but said nothing; her voice had yet to return to her.

Nobody said anything for a while as Malfoy took a while to go over what he remembered, Hermione did the same and Parkinson picked her notebook up again.

Slowly, though, footsteps could be heard from the hallway and as they got louder they could all hear the telltale voice of Ron Weasley, loudly yelling at a slightly more winded Harry Potter who answered only in short, "Slow down, Ron," and "I'm sure she's fine…" in between breaths. Sure enough, the doors to the infirmary burst open as Ron ran into them and hardly even stopped before he reached Hermiones bed.

"Hermione! Are you okay?" He yelled, making the three who were already in the room wince from the unwelcome sound.

"Yes, Ron, I am fine. Please be quiet," Hermione answered exasperated, a tone she always seemed to take on around her old friend. Ron, obviously, had heard this enough times to go willfully deaf anytime the word 'quiet' was uttered and just pressed on:

"But they said you were injured,"-"They said she was fine," Harry insisted quietly and just as exasperated as his friend-"and that someone beat up the ferret and that you saved him. Why would you do that?" Ron looked at Hermione as if she had killed his puppy and suddenly the room felt a bit too cold for comfort –not that Ron noticed, The ginger just pressed on with no notice to the looks he was receiving from everyone else in the room.

"He's a deatheater, Hermione! A Deatheater! If it were up to me they'd all-" He finally noticed the other two in the room and let out a cold laugh. He had yet to notice the cold eyes Hermione had trained on him.

She looked at him as if he were a threat rather than a friend.

Harry noticed this and shuttered, but even he could do nothing to stop Ron as he rose from his seat by Hermiones bed and strolled over towards where Malfoy and Parkinson were currently sitting. Malfoy had stiffened the second he had heard footsteps and Hermione was sure she had seen Pansy reach for her wand.

"They'd all be – what, exactly? Finish your sentences, Weasel," Malfoy sneered, his face transforming into a hateful grimace as he looked at Ron like he was something disgusting underneath a shoe.

Ron responded with a similar expression, "You'd all be dead. Every single one of you. Your lot are the reason my brother's in a coma and why my mother is-" He cut himself off again when he realized he had been yelling.

This was not public knowledge.

When the final attack at Hogwarts had been at its worst, a stray spell had hid Fred Weasley square in the chest. No one had seen where it came from or who had sent it. His twin had caught him as Fred fell to the ground and though he had a pulse and was seemingly unharmed, Fred had yet to wake up, even now, nearly 8 months after the war had ended.

When Molly saw her son fall she went into a spree, attacking every deatheater she saw with a fever that frightened even those on her side, and more than one deatheater attempted to turn tail and run from her wrath. None succeeded. Her spree ended when she somehow bested the crazy Bellatrix who had made the grave mistake of targeting Ginny Weasley while her mother was looking. Bellatrix stood little chance against a wounded mother and she fell within seconds of hearing the fateful words, "Not my daughter, you bitch!" After Bella had fallen, however, Molly seemed to stop fighting. She had shut down and, for as long as Fred, had been staying in a hospital bed next to his. She had yet to say a word.

Ron had finally gathered his thoughts enough to see that yelling wasn't the way forward and he was slowly moving towards Malfoy's bed with murderous intent in his eyes.

"You are nothing but evil scum. Why Hermione didn't just let you die I don't understand. Everyone knows that if you're once a Deatheater you're always a Deatheater. You should have died and done us all a favor!" He was yelling again and ignoring the protests coming from his friends as he stalked up to where Malfoy sat in his bed, still too exhausted from healing to be able to do much more than scoot as far away from the approaching ginger as his bed allowed him, which, unfortunately, was no more than a few inches.

Ron was still yelling and spewing insults the closer he got and in no time he was standing right next to where Malfoy was sitting. With no warning he reached out and grabbed Malfoy face with his left hand, his right pointing his wand at the blonde's eyes, sparks flying from the tip.

"I'll take care of this, I will," Ron said with murderous intent dripping from every word.

Malfoy had wisely kept quiet through the whole ordeal but now he winced and a whimper escaped his lips, though tiny enough for no one to hear.

"Ron, Stop it!" Hermione screamed and attempted to stand, only to nearly fall to the ground when her legs failed to support her weight and Harry had to catch her. Parkinson had also risen from her chair and was now pointing a wand at Ron with a frightened expression and a shaking hand.

"Leave him alone," she stated with a slightly shaking voice.

Ron, however, only laughed and held Malfoy's face even tighter, not noticing the cold sweat on his enemy's forehead.

"I've had enough of his face. It's time someone took care of this. He needs to pay for what he's done! He has to pay! The filthy little ferr-" He cut himself off when a hissing sound seemed to come from the pale face he was clutching and both Malfoy and Hermione let out screams of agony.

While Hermione was being held up by Harry, Malfoy slumped forwards as Ron let go of his face in horror when he saw the smoke escape between his fingers followed by a strong smell of burning flesh. Parkinson tried to catch him but Malfoy pulled away from her in a desperate attempt to avoid touch and she gasped with tears in her eyes when she saw the burned damage to his face in a clear handprint around his jaw and stretching up to his right cheekbone, creating a dark contrast to his pale skin.

"Don't touch me," he exclaimed, in a panicked voice, and both Parkinson and Ron took several steps back, the latter with horror in his eyes.

"I didn't do anything!" He stated quickly. "I just wanted to scare him! I didn't do anything!" He quickly retreated to Hermione's bed when it became clear that neither Parkinson nor Malfoy believed him, judging from the untrusting looks they both sent him.

Hermione was still hiding her face in Harry's embrace and seemed to whimper at every movement against her skin. Harry was simply too shocked at the whole ideal to do anything but instinctually hold his friend closer and keep her safe, but he also knew that he had to get to the bottom of it all, which, unfortunately, required Hermione to share what had caused her pain.

"Show me your face, Hermione," He coaxed softly and sighed when all the girl did was whimper again and shake her head gently. "Please, Hermione? We need to know what happened. Will you please show me what happened to you?" Harry kept his voice steady and calm and slowly Hermione lifted her head from the crook of his neck where she had hid, to show a burn mark completely identical to the one Malfoy was currently sporting three hospital beds down the room. Harry kept his face neutral as he surveyed the injury, but there was really nothing he could do to help.

"Ron!" he said, this time commanding, like he expected opposition, "Get Madam Pomfrey from the Great Hall. Now!" Ron looked like he was snapped out of a daze, and instead of protesting he simply sent a last shell shocked look at Malfoy's face before turning on the spot and racing out of the hospital wing.

Hermione took a few seconds to think over what had happened, but everything had seemed to be over so fast. Ron had been over by Malfoy's bed, yelling and holding his face in a threatening manner when a searing pain had crossed her own jaw and caused her to bury herself deeper in Harry's arms.

But nothing had touched her? So why was she hurting so badly now?

Startled, she looked up and directly into the eyes of Malfoy, who looked at her like he had seen a ghost. She probably looked at him with the same expression when she realized that the injury on him was exactly the same as the burn on her jaw.

How could this be?

Somehow that question seemed a lot less important now, as her brain realized that Malfoy was hurt. She somehow managed to rip herself from Harry's arms and bolt directly to Malfoy's bed, narrowly missing the other beds on the way.

Neither she nor Malfoy seemed surprised at her sudden movement, and he caught her almost effortlessly when she jumped up on his bed and moved both hands to hold his face gingerly in her hands while muttering a language neither of them understood nor heard as the air once again filled with silver lights and shone with a lilac shine upon their faces. Within seconds the wounds on both their faces lit up, shining silver as if from within themselves and when the lights went out, as quickly as it had come, no trace was left from any injuries whatsoever.

Hermione slumped forward the second the lights went out and the words stopped pouring from her mouth as she passed out for the second time that day, falling directly down onto Malfoy's chest.

He, however did not seem to mind all that much, simply letting himself lean back against the wall and holding her close before following her into unconsciousness.

Both Harry and Parkinson had witnessed it all and were gaping at the unconscious couple, both too shocked and confused to be able to move and only snapping out of it when they once again heard the sound of approaching footsteps followed by the doors once again slamming open when Madam Pomfrey ran in, followed closely by Professor Dumbledore and Ron, who seemed like he mostly just wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground.

The nurse immediately steered towards the passed out pair on the bed, and cast various diagnostic spells on the two as she checked both for injuries both physical as well as magical. Seeing no new damage apart from exhaustion, she decided to part the pair and move Hermione to her own bed so that they could both get some rest.

This proved to be a difficult feat, as Malfoy's arms were locked tightly around the brunette's waist and Hermione somehow seemed immune to magical attempts to part them, and so the nurse had to leave them be for the time being to avoid doing more damage than good.

Ron, who had otherwise kept quiet since they had arrived, started to protest this loudly, "Hermione shouldn't be sleeping with a Deatheater," he proclaimed, but was immediately silenced by a look from Dumbledore and an order to lower his voice in the hospital wing from Madam Pomfrey, who ushered them all out to avoid any more incidents to corrupt the healing process for the students, both of whom seemed surprisingly comfortable with each other.

She pulled Dumbledore aside, though as the students grudgingly left for their dorms.

"I can probably wake them up for a while, if you wish, Professor. I do not believe this will harm either of them in any way and I know you have questions for them both." She whispered while glancing at the retreating backs of Harry and Ron before they took a turn out of sight and hearing distance.

"That would be much appreciated, Poppy," Dumbledore replied calmly. He seemed to look tired in the low lights of the hallway, but looked as normal as ever as they walked back inside the infirmary.

Poppy nodded and pulled her wand from the front pocket of her robes, "only for a few minutes, though, Albus. They both need the rest."

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and went to sit on the bed next to where the two head students were currently sleeping, as Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the two and muttered a low _Enervate_.

Two pairs of eyes snapped open and both seemed shocked at their present position, with Malfoys arms tight around Hermione's waist and her hands on his shoulders, but neither seemed willing to move away, Hermione merely turning her head enough to be able to see the Headmaster smile at them both with an amused gleam in his ice blue eyes.

"How are you both feeling?" He asked the students and they both blinked at the question.

Hermione was the first to answer; "tired, I guess, sir. But apart from that I feel… Pretty good, actually." She smiled honestly at the professor and he turned his gaze at Malfoy who only had to shrug. "The same as her. I don't even… It doesn't hurt anymore. The- you know."

Dumbledore seemed to know what he was talking about and smiled knowingly.

"It would seem," he said, "that we have run into something completely unexpected with the two of you. Now, I do not have any answers for your questions presently," he held his hand up to stop Hermione from interrupting as he continued, "I will promise you both, however, that I will look into what has occurred today and try to find what seems to be the source. I can inform you both that I presently believe it to be the result of a magical heritage reaching its maturity, though I have yet to figure out which heritage we are talking about, and whose. Now, children, I believe it is time for you both to rest. We can discuss this at a better time and you should both know that I believe you both are completely safe in every manner. All change is not evil, it is sometimes simply… Different…" His eyes gleamed in the light when he smiled at them both, Hermione visibly restraining herself to keep quiet and Malfoy annoyed at the vague statements.

"Poppy would like to keep you both here overnight, but you are free to go to classes in the morning as long as you take care not to overexert yourselves. That especially goes for you, miss Granger," the professor looked at her over his half-moon shaped glasses as he rose from the bedside he had been sitting on, "you used up a lot of your core magic today, young lady, and you need to give it time to replenish." His voice was stern but as soon as he saw her agree Dumbledore smiled at them both again, and waved a hand in the air, lowering the lights.

"Goodnight to you both."

He left quietly, exchanging a few words with Madam Pomfrey, before they both left the wing, each in their own direction.

Malfoy huffed in annoyance, making Hermione hide a smile, and mumbled, "Well, that was somewhat vague…"

He received a soft huff in reply and Hermione answered "I'm sure we'll find answers sometime soon… But right now, if you don't mind, Malfoy, I would really like to sleep."

There was a short amount of shuffling as they both lay down in favor of the half-sitting position they had been in when they passed out, and Hermione ended up with her head on Malfoys chest and his arms once again around her.

She knew that she should feel weird about this, but honestly it felt more natural than breathing and she felt herself fall asleep to the soft sound of his heartbeat.


	3. Chapter 3: The difference of a leaf

As days became weeks after the events in the hospital wing, Hermione started to realize just how much something had changed within her.

Her magic, first of all, which had always been nearly abnormally strong, was now beyond measure, so much so that she occasionally had trouble controlling it fully, resulting in spontaneous acts whenever her feelings spiked in whichever direction resulting in various events; When Ron had tried (again) to (once again) yell at her (again!) about the issue of Draco Malfoy and everything wrong he had ever done, Ron had ended up in the hospital wing with his lips sewn shut (Hermione had been reading a book on the magics in Nordic mythology and apparently her magic saw that as proper inspiration?).

It had taken Madam Pomfrey few seconds to cut the tread, but slightly longer to restore his vocal chords which had somehow disappeared in the process. Ron still wouldn't speak to her.

Other occurrences had included Ginny's hair somehow turning into actual gold for a day when she had complimented Hermione's grasp on a specific hair charm, Pansy Parkinson, whose truce with Hermione still held true, had smelled softly like roses since she had let her new ally use her silver knife in potions class when Hermione forgot her own, and Harry's pen which had been dutifully taking down his notes for him since he asked her for tips on note taking because 'hers were always so perfect!'.

Naturally, none of these events had gone by unnoticed, and so the entire school was buzzing with gossip.

Everyone had their own theory on what was going on with the Gryffindor Headgirl. This would have been fine if Hermione hadn't had more than a few bits of wild magic, but this was not the case.

She had started to notice how, every time she was around people and they got angry, or sad, or even really happy, her entire being seemed to panic at the overwhelming feelings emitting from them. Her skin seemed to burn whenever somebody touched her and she would spend twice the energy between classes, jumping away from people as she tried to avoid burning her skin on the way.

Most days she was unsuccessful and eventually, being out in the open was far too exhausting for her to deal with alone.

She would feel short of breath, her skin would burn, her eyes would go fuzzy and the constant pull in her heart would usually get stronger, occasionally pulling hard enough for her to have to run in the general direction which somehow always managed to have her end up in the arms of one Draco Malfoy, who didn't seem to mind all that much, and who somehow never once managed to burn her, no matter how much they touched.

Neither would she, to be honest, had it not been for the inconvenience of having to run every time her friends were discussing serious business (or quidditch, though those were not conversations she minded running from).

It had taken some getting used to, though, as it seemed that the pull didn't mind practically running through anyone unlucky enough to be in her path, and after the third time Malfoy had come running and found her on the floor because she had fallen over some unfortunate first year student they had just made a simple agreement to stay closer together for as long as they could, which usually resulted in them sitting together in classes and eating in one of their private dorms to avoid having to sit with the wrong houses at the longtables in the Great Hall.

It had been Draco's idea, of course:

"You know, we really can't keep meeting like this." He stated as he looked at her sprawled on the floor with her books strewn everywhere when she dropped her bag in the fall.

"We wouldn't have to if I could just figure this thing out," Hermione grumbled and tried to stand up, only to fall down again when her ankle gave in on her.

Draco sighed and sat down next to her, pointing his wand at her ankle and healing it with an intricate spell, "I know we have to find a solution, or at least an answer, but until then we really need to figure out a way to keep you from tripping over every student who dares to walk in the hallways. One of these days you're going to break something," He raised an eyebrow when she attempted to protest, "I know that! But it's just so agitating! Twice today I have had to flee for no reason because of nothing! Twice! Once, Ginny was just trying to tell me about how her brothers were doing and I just ran off! She doesn't even want to look at me now! I don't know what to do anymore… I don't.. I- I can't breathe."

She suddenly came to a halt when she felt the familiar sense of panic in her chest again, but before she could fall into the panic she felt two strong arms pull her into an embrace as Malfoy held her and calmly whispered directions into her ear to help her breathe.

"Easy there, Granger. Take a deep breath. Good, now, try to follow my breath. Easy, easy. There you go. It's okay, you're just fine. Just breathe…" he coaxed until she seemed to relax again and breathed more easily.

He continued to hold her as he spoke, "This is becoming a reoccurring problem, you know. You need to keep your feelings in check; otherwise you might get one of these panic attacks at a time where I'm not there to calm you down."

She nodded tiredly and he continued, "I think we need to stick together for now. Not necessarily all the time, but at least for most of the day so that we won't have as long to run as we do now. We could sit together in class, that way we also avoid any instances there."

"We'd also have to eat together," Hermione said weakly as she regained her voice.

"Why do you think that?" Malfoy asked. Hermione let her head fall back against his shoulder when she answered, "Three of the times I've had to run, just in this week, was during meals. That's where everyone discusses everything and I can't handle all the emotions! It's just too much."

Draco seemed to think this over for a bit. He nodded, "Then I propose that we eat in our own dorms. We could switch up where. I do not believe it to be a good idea for either of us to sit at a different house table yet. We still have a lot of work to do before introducing any of the houses to mixing the tables." They had both agreed and left the hallway soon thereafter.

Together.

Now, a week after their agreement they were sitting next to each other in the back of the potions class with a cauldron on the desk between them, calmly discussing the best way for dragon scales to be powdered for potion use.

Pansy and Blaise Zabini, who were sitting at the desk in front of them were both taking notes on the discussion and occasionally asking a question, which either Hermione or Draco answered without stopping their conversation.

It was all very friendly and would have been perfectly fine, had it not been for the hostile looks they were both receiving from both the Gryffindor and Slytherin parts of the room, and the way Hermione was clutching Draco's hand hard enough to make her knuckles go white.

Neither were showing any other signs of discomfort though, as they simply talked, ignoring the looks and satisfying the pull through physical contact.

Their discussion was cut short, however, as Professor Snape strode into the room in his classically aggressive manner, black cloak billowing behind him.

"You will find no need to open your books today," he sneered as he walked directly to the blackboard behind his desk and tapped it with his wand making two words appear there:

"'Indicatus Magis'. Who knows of this potion?" He asked as he looked around the classroom. Most students looked bored already, but some, those who had actually bothered to read through their potions books, looked at each other, confused and, when even Hermione failed to raise her hand, most other students seemed to realize that this might actually be interesting and looked expectedly at their professor who simply ignored their looks.

"Nobody? Hardly surprising. The Indicatus Magis is an ancient potion created by an ancestor to Merlin himself and it is highly advanced. So much so, that I am surprised it is even on the list of potions you are required to work with in your final year. Actually, I was surprised to see it mentioned anywhere at all. The Indicatus Magis potion, or as it is more commonly known, 'The indicator', has been brewed only once to my knowledge, in the past 100 years, once because it failed catastrophically. Or so it would have, had the brewer not been extremely lucky with his ancestry. Its purpose is, as the name might tell, to indicate, show and determine the magic in an individual. Meaning, that it will show any magic and in which form it is in.

"To put it clearly for those of you who are still behind, it will show which magical species you have in your ancestry, and the amount of magic you possess of it. As an example," he looked around the classroom shortly, "Mr. Goyle would have a near full circle of dark red surrounding him, were he to ever drink the potion. The dark, clear red show the so called 'purity' of the blood. Keep in mind,"

He interrupted the offended sounds around the room, "That this is an ancient potion, build on ancient principles. For this reason, muggleblood is a muddy brown. Other species are represented by various colours and if you had no magic whatsoever, the circle would be only black, as the potion would find no magic to connect with."

He paused for effect and looked around at the students.

Most seemed honestly interested in today's lessen, though some, it seemed, were way in over their heads, and had simply given up.

Malfoy and Granger were both dutifully taking notes and Potter seemed to be reading his as his pen moved across the parchment untouched. Snape tapped the blackboard again, this time making instructions appear there along with a list of ingredients and sat down behind his desk.

"You will have to be very cautious with this," he warned without looking up, "This is not a simple nettlejuice nor could I guarantee your safety should any of you mess this up, so I suggest you all work very concentrated and follow all of the instructions. You work two and two with whomever you happen to be seated with. This potion will take a week to brew and you need to have the first part finished by the end of this lesson. Begin."

At his last order everybody jumped at their tables and started to split the tasks between them. Hermione and Malfoy quickly agreed to let him find the ingredients and her take care of the measuring and timing of the separate stages of the potion.

She smiled encouragingly at Neville Longbottom, who was sitting at the table next to hers and was waiting for Dean Thomas to return with the ingredients. He smiled tentatively back, before turning back to his notes with a worried expression.

Potions had never been his strong suit.

Hermione and Draco, however, were both the top students in the class and they worked in a comfortable silence for most of the class. Hermione found, that Malfoy was a very competent potions master and they were both enjoying the challenge immensely.

Ron, on the other hand, wasn't enjoying himself at all. He had found himself seated beside Lavender Brown and while she only had eyes for him and none on the simmering mess that should have been their potion, he had only eyes for the brown haired girl sitting in the back of the class.

He was glaring angrily at the blonde head of Malfoy as the boy handed a vial of shining elven tears to Hermione and when she accepted them from him with a smile, Ron felt a deep hatred inside him.

Immediately, Hermione stiffened as if she felt something off in the air, but then she somehow softened again and sent another smile at her working partner, only deepening the dark feeling in Ron's chest.

With no thought to the consequences, he cast a muttered Wingardium Leviosa on a small leaf in front of him and slowly guided it through the air. Unfortunately for Ron, Lavender decided at that moment to call for his attention when she gasped as their potion collapsed, leaving nothing but a cement like mix at the bottom of the cauldron, and at that moment, Ron lost his concentration and the leaf fell.

Neville exclaimed loudly when he saw the small leaf fall in front of his face and, when he failed to catch it, directly into his potion.

Snape heard his yell and looked up sharply, "Cover your potions!" He ordered harshly and stood as the students scrambled to cast protective spells on their cauldrons.

He wasn't even past his desk when the compromised potion exploded. Neville, who was standing directly behind it, had managed to make a shield strong enough to hold the explosive potion in the cauldron, but it was obvious, as it kept expanding and exploding, that it would not hold for long.

The normally nervous looking chubby boy, though far more a man after the events in the war, seemed to collect himself, though. His back straightened and his stance changed, he dropped his wand on the floor and held out both hands over the cauldron, fingers apart and palms down and, as his eyes started to shine with a warm, amber colour, he seemed to sing.

With a low, dark, commanding voice, Neville seemed to guide the potion as it gave in to his foreign words and seemed to become compact, smaller and change from a violent red to something brown, not far from- an acorn.

At the bottom of Neville's cauldron now lay a small acorn, looking completely normal apart from the fact that it seemed to be made of an amber-like substance and glowed slightly from the shadows.

The boy had slumped to the floor and Snape, who had reached him right after his eyes started to glow, but hadn't interfered with the magic, only created a protecting barrier around both Neville and the explosion, now kneeled beside him and asked him a quick question to which Neville shook his head.

Snape nodded and stood up, more terrifying than ever as his icy glare swept across the room.

"Which one of you fools," He said coldly, making everyone shutter and Hermione scoot closer to Draco, who slipped his arm around her, "Decided that it would be a grand idea to drop a mistletoe leaf into an already volatile potion?"

His eyes swept over each student as they all shrank away from his sight, until they fell on Ron, who was trying to hide desperately behind his cauldron.

"Why am I not surprised?" Snape muttered under his breath before calling the boy's name, "Weasley! Out of all the fools in my class you are the worst! What exactly possessed you to even consider dropping something into another person's potion after I had explicitly warned you to be extremely careful?! Your foolishness could have cost the lives of everyone present, had Mr Longbottom not reacted in time!"

Ron shrank even further behind his cauldron at the words and seemed to pale to the near extreme at the following words;

"Detention, Mr Weasley, with Mr Filch twice a week for three months. And I will be contacting your parents."

The last words made even Ron's freckles pale and he practically bolted the second Snape turned his back to him. Neville was now standing, being supported by Dean Thomas because his legs were shaking too much for him to stand on his own.

When Snape turned to look at him he stiffened, but didn't seem to have enough energy left in him to even try to look scared.

"Well done, Mr Longbottom." Neville blinked. Had he just heard..?

He looked around and saw several other shocked expressions.

"I am going to have a long chat with your grandmother about keeping certain things hidden, but yes, I did just praise you. I won't do it again, so snap out of it boy!"

Neville blinked again, but shook his head and looked at his teacher expectedly.

"What just happened is an instinctual response to a specific danger from a specific creature. Mr Longbottom probably has no idea of what he just did so I would refrain from asking him bothersome questions if I were you. Essentially, he transformed the energy from the blast into something small and positive, in this example, and acorn. This is also what occurred the last time someone made this potion. When the potion failed the brewer unexpectedly found his- answer, when he suddenly sat with a small seed in his hands instead of a potion. These seeds can grow into various types of plants and have various purposes, but they always have two things in common; they always grow with a golden stem, red leaves and silver fruit, and they have been known to be able to save people from what would otherwise have been a certain death. If you wish for more information, I suggest you ask Professor Sprout or look in the library for information on the Scarlett Blessing. 50 points to Gryffindor. You are dismissed."

He left them all gaping after him as they gathered the information they had received, before every one of the students started talking between each other, many walking past Neville, clapping him on the shoulder or shaking his hand as they walked by.


	4. Chapter 4: How not to flirt

As was the usual custom at Hogwarts, the rumor of the disastrous potions lesson had spread like wildfire and everybody was talking about it. Neville was being treated like a hero (not that he noticed), and people were constantly following him around –much to Hermiones amusement.

Her friend, however, didn't seem to even notice the attention.

He just kept going as he always had since he grew out of his clumsiness after the war, still a slightly shy and good hearted young man, though he had not really gotten any more attractive than he had always been with a slightly pudgy stomach and buck teeth.

He had talked to Professor Sprout for hours after the incident in the dungeons, and was now visiting the greenhouses several times each day to check up on the seed he had planted under specific instructions from his professor.

With school, homework and the plant, he had no time for fame, something Hermione was very proud of him for.

Ron had been less lucky, it seemed.

His mother had sent a Howler to him only the next day after he had caused the accident, ensuring that even those few who might have missed his involvement in the affair, were informed during the ten minute long rant in which Molly Weasley had threatened to 'come to the school and pick him up right now if he didn't learn to use what was between his ears for something useful other than ridiculous quidditch facts'.

Ron had been frozen out from the community since then, with no other friends now, than Lavender Brown, his girlfriend, who seemed surprisingly pleased about having him all to herself. Her boyfriend seemed less pleased, however, and he was often seen skulking around the castle, ignoring the hateful looks he received from those around him.

Harry had especially been displeased:

"What were you thinking?" he had yelled at him when he found Ron hiding in the Gryffindor tower. "You know how dangerous it is to mess with an unknown potion! We could have died! Have you learned nothing since the war?"

Ron had bowed his head in shame as he refused to meet Harry's eyes, "I wasn't… I wasn't thinking," He muttered.

Harry looked at his old friend disbelievingly.

"You weren't thinking. Of course you weren't thinking…" he threw up his arms in a desperate manner and turned away from the ginger boy who still refused to look up from his shoes, "Well, when you learn how to think you can try to talk to me again. Until then, just stay away from us. Neither me, nor my friends, need any more danger in our lives, especially not just because you 'weren't thinking'."

He spat the last sentence out and left his friend to his thoughts.

Ron had yet to try to talk to him, even now, two weeks after the fight, and they were both too stubborn to go to each other, though they were also equally miserable without each other.

Hermione, who had heard about the fight from Harry, had noticed them both being even more miserable than usual, and was starting to put together a plan to get them to speak again. The plan would have to wait, though, as she currently had more pressing matters to figure out.

Her condition, as she had started referring to it in her head, was gradually getting worse and walking anywhere was getting a real issue since she seemed to get deep and painful burns from any and every touch she received skin on skin.

The pull in her chest was also getting stronger, so much so, that Dumbledore had pulled both her and Draco aside to inform them that their schedules were being connected so that they could stick together throughout the day.

Both students had appreciated the idea, though it meant sometimes being in classes with different houses than their own which sometimes proved to be an issue; Gryffindor's especially were extremely hostile towards Draco when he would sit in on Transformation classes and he did very little to ease the tension, in fact he quite enjoyed riling people up with snide remarks and sarcastic comments and only really stopped when Hermione got a pinched expression which showed whenever the pull was getting too bad for her to handle properly.

While Draco felt the pull, his was not as easily triggered as Hermione's, and he rarely felt the need to run unless one of them was in actual danger. Hermione was more sensitive, it seemed, and would regularly get triggered by the stronger emotions around her.

After a month of eating together in their dorms Hermione and Draco decided it was time to attempt to eat separately in the Great Hall again. Both had enjoyed their private meals and were initially surprised to learn how much they really had in common when it came to both taste in literature and other subjects and would spend hours discussing books and magic.

Hermione learned a lot of useful information on how the magical community worked and how to function in it. She was stunned to find the grand heritage in culture and rituals and how it was woven into everyday deeds, be it a simple spell at a tree to please a nearby spirit, or the hour long reciting of a verse when trying to appease a scorned Veela.

One conversation, in particular, had been interesting;

"So what you're saying is," Hermione summed up, "that the entire Magical community is build up on superstitions and rituals? How does that work exactly?" She looked at Draco for confirmation but was confused when he shook his head.

"Not superstition, no. Every ritual we do is very much real and for a real purpose. We do not 'pray' to a single 'god' as some muggles seem to do, nor do we believe ourselves to be above the nature or seek to destroy it for profit."

He seemed appalled at the very idea and continued, "You know how there are countless magical creatures and species around the world? Most of those live in seclusion and avoid humans –others are simply animals like owls and cats –but some live near the wizarding world and around us, seeking comfort in our magic or merely living undisturbed. In most examples they live side by side with the community, neither harming, nor helping, simply being there. But sometimes, be it our fault or theirs, a dispute happens and that is why we have our rituals."

Hermione had been sitting with a small notebook, quickly taking notes to what she was hearing. She looked up when the wizard stopped talking and found him staring at her with a kind expression.

Arching an eyebrow she urged him to continue.

"In order to avoid this, every wizard knows his rituals and creatures. Most are taught from childhood about the nearby creatures or spirits and know how to please them. For example, a water spirit in a lake can be appeased by cleansing spells for the lake water, or a ritual to give the wildlife around it strength. Most require a spell or a quick verse while the minor spirits are pleased easily by being given woven flowers or ribbons at the small altars by their domains. These things are only for weaker creatures, though."

He stopped to give Hermione a chance to catch up.

When she lifted her pen from the paper and looked up he continued, "Most of the humanoid creatures have their own rituals, though you hardly need to do them to please them unless you have offended some official law in their existence-"

"Like what?" Hermione interrupted which earned her a glare.

"Don't interrupt, I'm getting to it!" Draco hissed, though he softened quickly and elaborated. This had always been a favourite topic for him, as well as it being very personal, so he wanted to be sure to explain it right!

"If you take a Veela, for example; Veela's are naturally alluring to humans in order to attract a mate, but if their mate rejects them for whatever reason, despite their allure, the mate will have to complete a long ritual in order to soften the blow for the Veela and cut their bond. This will be painful for the Veela, but will enable it to live on though it will never find another mate. But the ritual enables it to live, and neither party will have a reason for retribution, thereby hindering a conflict."

Hermione nodded, "So we are not talking about generally having to please magical creatures, as much as just making sure there are no threats to either side. Clever."

Draco had smirked at her comment and leaned back in his seat.

"Quite," He answered, "but that is only for Veela's. There are countless other creatures with different rules and rituals and while most are easily distinguished and clear on their requirements, some are far more difficult to explain and have caused a lot of trouble, especially for those who are not educated well enough to know how to deal with their magic."

Hermione had nodded along and mad a small note in her book. It made a lot of sense that some creatures had different rulebooks from the wizards in the community, especially since they could not control, nor change their heritage.

"Are there many humanoid creatures around?" She asked.

Draco's smirk widened when he answered, "Quite a few, I'd say," he said.

"Most are open about their heritage and while some are in the dark about their nature, most have known since childhood and are open about it. I believe that Veela's are the most 'common' in our western community, probably because they have a strong magical connection to wizards and their allure pulls them towards each other."

At this he paused for a second before tentatively continuing; "The Malfoy line, for example, has a strong line of Veela blood in them. It is a matter of either/or for Veela's; either you are a full blood Veela or you are not. The Veela blood has skipped many generations until it appeared in my father and, once again, in me."

He stopped talking for a few seconds and met Hermione's eyes when they snapped up at the revelation.

They stared at each other for e few moments when Hermione broke the silence with a, "Well that makes sense…"

"How so?" Draco asked curiously.

Hermione smiled at him and he relaxed his tense posture, "The Pull." She answered simply. "I assume we are experiencing the Pull between two mates. Am I right?"

Draco froze again and turned his eyes away as he answered softly. "I wasn't sure in the beginning." He said. "I thought… I don't know what I thought exactly, but I wanted to be completely certain before breaching the subject. But yes," He breathed, "the Pull is what would happen between two mates. The burns and panic, however, is not anything from my heritage." He frowned slightly, but eased up when Hermione reached across the table and held his hand.

"We'll figure it out." She said with confidence in her voice.

"Of course we will," Draco responded and they fell into a comfortable silence, their hands still connected.

The Great Hall was as large and noisy as ever. The enchanted ceiling which showed the outside sky was cloudy and white, snowflakes falling towards the floor before evaporating mid-air.

Hermione and Draco had entered together but parted immediately, both heading for the opposite end of the room to sit at their house tables. The Veela had sent Hermione a small smile before leaving and she had let it calm her down as she walked up to where Neville was sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Can I sit here?" She asked and received a smile and a nod from her friend, inviting her to sit.

"So," Hermione started, "How is it going with your tree?" She knew that his tree was one of Neville's most proud accomplishments, along with the killing of Voldemort's evil snake Nagini, and was genuinely interested in hearing about his progress.

Neville beamed at her, "It is almost a large sapling now," he boasted proudly, "and Professor Sprout said that I will grow to its full size practically overnight once the leaves reach a ruby red colour! They are already a dark pink, so it might just be a few weeks yet!" He was so excited at the prospect that he accidently tipped over his pumpkin juice into his food.

Hermione helped him clean up the mess while asking about the magical plant.

"If it will grow large so quickly, don't you need to decide where to keep it planted?" She inquired.

Neville nodded seriously, "I have some time to decide where to keep it. It needs to be kept somewhere safe, especially because of the power and magic it possesses. I am moving into my p-" he cut himself off for a second before stuttering, "My p-parent's estate," he breathed shortly, "after the school year, and I think I'm going to plant it in the garden behind the house, near the old forest."

Hermione inquired to the forest in question and Neville was explaining about the age old woods on and around the Longbottom grounds when a loud "How many times do I have to tell you? No!" was heard from the Slytherin tables.

They both looked up to see Draco sneer at a tall Slytherin girl with black, wavy hair and a tan complexion.

She was leaning over the table in a flirtatious manner towards him, while he seemed like he was about to fall from his seat with how far back he was leaning away from her.

"But Draco," She pouted, seemingly unaware of the attention they were receiving, "we both know that I'm right. So why don't you just admit it?" She smirked and pushed herself towards him. The movement seemed to snap Draco out of his stupor and he jumped from his seat and stepped back from the advancing girl.

He was sneering and looked at her with eyes cold enough to make most of the student population present shutter.

"No, Melissa." He said with ice in his voice. "I have nothing to 'admit'."

Taking another step back from the girl he looked at her with disgust as she ignored the hateful looks and continued towards him with a seducing smile.

"You are not my mate!" Draco yelled, suddenly, when it was made clear that she was adamant about following eavesdropping students gasped, a sound loud enough to make the two Slytherins realize the audience, and gave Draco a chance to step even further away from Melissa as she looked around shortly before returning her gaze to him.

"You don't have to lie to me, Draco," She smiled arrogantly and strode up to him.

Draco seemed to have frozen and she used his lack of reaction to her advantage, reaching up and cupping his face with her hand, leaning in for a kiss. When her lips were almost on his a screeching sound was heard from behind her, which would have made the girl jump, had she had the time; immediately after the sound a magic barrier pushed Melissa away from her victim, revealing a dark burn on his cheek, where her hand had been only a moment before.

She skidded across the floor, several yards away from Draco, who took the opportunity to run, not from the Hall, but towards the other end of the room, where Hermione was standing with a furious expression and an identical burn mark on her cheek.

She blinked when Draco reached for her and grabbed her hand, before running with him from the stunned room, leaving only shocked silence behind them.

Neville was the first to move, quickly collecting hos bag from the floor and running after his friend. His leaving started an uproar in the Great Hall as everybody yelled to each other about what had just occurred.

The only one not yelling was Melissa Blake, who was slowly dragging herself from the floor and left in silence.

Neville reached the pair right outside the painting leading to Hermione's dorm and, after making sure they were both well and unharmed(he had no idea of how, but both of their burns had disappeared during their escape), he suggested they walked to Potions class together. None of the head student had any protests and soon they were all walking towards the classroom.

At first while they walked, Draco was hesitant to speak to Neville, seemingly thinking the dark blonde boy to be below him, but at the end of their short walk down to the dungeons all three were eagerly discussing the magical properties of Veela hair and none of them were aware of the obvious looks they were receiving as they walked into class and sat down at their usual seats.

Draco was defending his case when Snape walked in and quickly shut his mouth when the professor reached his desk and turned to the students.

"I sincerely hope for your sakes, that you all have finished your potions as were your homework last time?" he droned and looked around the classroom where most students had hurried to place their bottled potions on the table in front of them.

Most were a pale white colour and, while adequate, would not do for what was his purpose. Malfoy and Granger's potion, however, was a shimmering iridescent which shone softly white.

"While most of you have gotten close, it would seem only Mr Malfoy succeeded in creating a perfect batch so we will be using his potion for this class, which is a demonstration as well as theoretic class." He silenced the short groans around the classroom with a withering glare and turned to the blackboard.

"Does anybody remember the purpose of the Indicatus Magis potion?" he asked without looking back as he tapped the board with his wand, making a list of student names appear in random order. "Anyone beside Miss Granger." He still hadn't turned around but the giggles around the room confirmed his suspicions that she had been the only one with the answer to his question. Snape turned around and sighed at the empty looks from most of the class, "Very well, Miss Granger, you may speak." He said irritably.

Hermione perked up immediately, earning a smirk from Draco, who was sitting beside her, and pinched him in retaliation as she answered;

"The Indicatus Magis potion is created to connect to the drinkers magic and will show the kind of magic and, if relevant, species, the drinker possesses."

She smiled proudly at Professor Snape, who merely inclined his head slightly before he continued himself. "And that is exactly what we are going to find out today. Every single one of you are to come up to the front and drink a few drops of Mr Malfoy's potion. I will then explain the different reactions to the magic and you will return to your seats. You are to follow the list on the blackboard. Miss Brown." He called, making Lavender squeal slightly before pulling herself away from Ron and walking down to the front of the classroom.

She drank two small drops of the shimmering potion and stood uncertainly while waiting for a reaction.

Few seconds after the potion had touched her tongue a bright light surrounded her head, like a halo, and glowed with a deep blood red colour. Snape nodded at her and let a piece of chalk write on the blackboard while he sat behind the desk, "Blood red is pure magical blood. Next."

Ron stood from his seat and went to the potion, ignoring the dirty looks he received. After him, it was Blaise Zabini, a pure blood, Seamus Finnigan, who had a halo split up in the middle, red on one half, muddy brown on the other.

"Muggle blood" Snape had supplied.

When it came to be Draco's turn he stood calmly and seemed understandably unsurprised at the full silver circle around him, while the professor explained the nature of Veela blood. Draco had simply smirked and gone back to his seat even before the light had fully faded, making his pale features stand out even more than usual.

Hermione was contemplating on the impossibility of his silver eyes when Neville's name was called and Draco's smirk was enough to make her realize just how obviously she had been staring at him.

Looking back towards her teacher with a light pink blush on her cheeks she was shocked to see Neville surrounded by, not the expected red, but rather a shining forest green light.

He looked very confused and shocked, the poor lad, and Hermione couldn't help but feel bad for him, having to find out about his inheritance in the middle of a class demonstration.

"As expected." Snape stated, making everybody's eyes turn to where he was sitting calmly behind his desk. "I failed to inform you all of this at the incident two weeks ago, but Mr Longbottom here would not have been able to do what he did lest he had pure Nymph blood in his system. This potion was originally created for the purpose of identifying Nymphs and it was pure coincidence that it has a similar reaction to any other magical signature. When it was created, it was found that only a Nymph was able to use magic on the substance successfully, and only a Nymph was able to receive the precious gift which is the seed which is currently in Mr Longbottom's possession."

Neville looked as if he was about to pass out as he stumbled back to his seat and smiled a pale smile at Hermione when she sent him a worried glance.

"I'm fine." He mouthed silently and sighed at her skeptical expression.

The lesson continued with Snape calling out the names of students as they drank the potion and he cataloged the differences in reactions on the blackboard. Soon only Hermione was left and she rose quickly at the mention of her name. She allowed three iridescent drops to hit her tongue and swallowed them calmly, expecting no other reaction than a muddy brown light.

She was shocked to see, however, that the light surrounding her head was not a rusty brown. Nor was it red, or green, or even the same silver as Draco's Veela blood had created.

No, Hermione Granger's halo was a shimmering, bright silverish white and lilac mix, which glowed so bright, that most students had to cover their eyes.

"It cannot be." Snape whispered.


	5. Chapter 5: The joy of libraries

Chapter 5:

Hermione Granger's halo was a shimmering, bright silverish white and lilac mix, which glowed so bright, that most students had to cover their eyes.

"It cannot be." Snape whispered.

The entire classroom was in disarray.

Ron was yelling at Hermione, demanding answers to why she had lied to him about her heritage, Lavender was hissing at him to sit back down. Harry was stunned into silence, not even noticing when Seamus leaned over to ask him if 'he knew?', while most Slytherins were debating internally, about who had known, suspected or even expected Granger not to be a muggleborn.

Draco and Neville had shared a shocked look, but said nothing as they looked expectedly at their teacher, who seemed to be waiting for the class to calm down.

When that turned out to be far into the future without a push, he picked up his wand from his desk and cast a simple Silencio, silencing the students immediately, though Ron seemed to be still trying to yell through the spell.

Hermione was still standing in front of the class, her face pale and swaying dangerously from side to side. At the desperate look he got from the Veela, Snape allowed Draco to run to her and gently guide her back to her seat where he sat her down and continued to hold his arm around her while they listened to what Professor Snape had to say.

"This is an unexpected situation, I admit." Snape began, while he wiped the blackboard clean with magic, making room for a single word; 'Salvái'.

Had they been able, most of the class would have started muttering again, but even in their silent state, many shoulders were punched and meaningful looks shared as they listened to their teacher.

"The Salvái have been believed to be extinct for hundreds of years. The last known sighting of a Salvái was in Egypt, 300 years BC muggle time." He spoke through the shocked expressions with a pained expression.

"There is very little known about the Salvái. The only thing we are really sure of is that if unharmed they are practically immortal, and that Salvái were the earliest example found on the ancestors of Angels." Hermione looked as if she was about to pass out and probably would have fallen from her seat, had Draco not held her upright.

"I suggest you look through the library, Miss Granger," Snape said not unkindly, "Though I do not believe you will have much luck in finding anything. Books on Salvái are few and far between."

He stood after seeing her agreeing expression and headed for the door to his private office.

"Dismissed."

He stated immediately before waving his wand, releasing his silencing spell, and disappearing through the door. Chaos rose again.

Hermione was given leave to use the library as much as she pleased, even the restricted section to research her new heritage. She had been largely avoiding everybody at school –especially since rumors were starting to go around about her supposedly being dangerous which made her receive many frightened looks whenever she moved around between her dorm and the library.

Excited at the prospect of unlimited access to the library despite her confusion and unease at discovering such a shocking thing about herself, Hermione immediately started what she did best; research.

It had been an entire week's worth of frustrating vague texts in old dusty books when Hermione finally swore loudly, ignoring the reprimanding look from Madam Pince, who always seemed to be just around the corner of a bookshelf whenever anyone did something out of conduct in the library, and dropped her head on the latest unhelpful tome she had been reading.

Surrounded by piles of heavy books lying around on the round table she was sat at and on the floor around her chair Hermione was almost trapped between the books. With her head resting on the book in front of her you could hardly see the book for the bushy mess that was her hair, even bigger than usually after her hands had run through it constantly in frustration.

She had found nothing of importance.

At all.

Hermione felt like crying. How on earth could there be nothing of relevance in the entirety of the Hogwarts library? It was a magical library for crying out loud! There should at least be a few lines on the subject amongst the thousands of books that surrounded her, which should light a small light on the subject.

But no, all she had found were vague poems (none of them very good) about shining feathery touches and something about the elements… None of this made any sense to her, especially not out of context! She needed facts!

Hermione groaned and pulled her hair again to resist the urge to raise her head only to slam it down in the table a bit harder.

"My, Granger," a smug voice sounded behind her, "Do try not to drool on the books." Hermione's head shot up and she glared at the blonde wizard.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt your tantrum?" He smirked while taking in her bloodshot eyes and mess of a hair.

Hermione mockingly growled but immediately felt marginally better in the company of her mate.

"You did, actually." She responded, and slammed shut the tome in front of her, waving her wand over it in a dismissing swish and watched as it floated into the air and back to its original place on the bookshelves behind her table.

"The interruption is very welcome, though!"

She smiled and stretched her back in the seat she had been occupying the entire afternoon. Draco's pale hair was falling into his eyes as he sat down in a nearby chair and looked seriously at Hermione.

"Have you found anything?" he asked. Hermione shook her head almost violently and ran a hand though her hair in obvious frustration (again).

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. How can there be no books whatsoever on an entire magical species? I've searched the entire library for answers and the most I've come up with is a horrible poem in French, which didn't even rhyme." She frowned unhappily and sneered at the piles of books around her.

Draco looked exasperated and took out his wand. He flicked it at the books on the floor and sent them on their way to their places on the shelves while he smiled at Hermione as if she was an unknowing child.

"Well, what did you expect?" he asked her, and continued while ignoring the sudden look of annoyance sent his way, "Did you actually think you'd be able to find anything in a school library? Honestly Granger, I expected more from you." Hermione was now glaring at him and she stood up and put her hands on her hips.

"Well, do you have a better idea?" She asked angrily.

She looked exhausted and Draco's expression softened to mild exasperation.

"I do, actually," He said, "if you're willing to listen?" Hermione took a deep breath and willed her body to relax. She was really a sight, even standing there with a mess of her hair and ink stains on her tie (Draco didn't think she had noticed yet).

She raised an eyebrow at him in an encouraging gesture, "I'm listening."

Draco smiled, "If you say so. Considering the heritage in my family and our deep knowledge in magical creatures it might not come as a complete surprise that we also own what is probably the most extensive collection of books on the subject. I'd be delighted to let you search through our library." He looked at Hermione and frowned slightly at the sight of her tentative expression.

"Isn't it a bit much to take a trip to your home in the middle of the school year just to sate my curiosity?" She asked.

"Not at all," Draco replied, "besides, I was going to go myself anyway. I am almost fully grown as a Veela and I'd like to brush up on what to expect."

He paused briefly but quickly interrupted Hermione's "would-", with "and Dumbledore already gave me permission. In fact, he was the one to suggest asking you to come along."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "That was not what I was going to say."

"Oh?" Draco asked.

"I was going to ask if we could bring Neville as well? He had no idea of what he was and I have found no real information on Nymphs here either." Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like "pathetic excuse for a library", but she wasn't sure so she just ignored it.

"Longbottom? I was going to suggest it myself, so yes, that would be acceptable." Hermione smiled at him and turned to the table to collect her quill and parchment which was strewn across the table and the floor around her seat.

"Great," She said as she stuffed everything into her bag and threw it over her shoulder, "when do we leave?"

Draco thought about it for a moment, "I was thinking this weekend." He said and stepped to the side to let Hermione walk past him.

"So tomorrow, then?" She asked over her shoulder as he followed her out in the hallway, "That sounds fine." They walked together towards the Great Hall and only parted when they had to, him staying in the doorway as she walked down the length of the Gryffindor table until she reached Neville, who was glaring at a book in front of him as if it had insulted his entire existence.

"Hello Neville," Hermione said and just barely managed not to giggle at the way he started and almost fell out of his seat.

"Don't do that!" He exclaimed, but quickly calmed down again and looked apologetic.

"Sorry," He said, "I'm just…" He sighed at ran his hand through his hair, in almost exactly the same way as Hermione had done thirty minutes earlier.

"Frustrated?" Hermione offered and smiled gently as he nodded with a tired expression. "I might have an offer you'd appreciate, then" She said.

"Draco and I were thinking, -no, hear me out!" she said quickly when she saw the skeptical look that immediately appeared on her friends face.

He nodded slowly and she continued. "We were thinking that since the Hogwarts library seems to be a waste of time if you need useful knowledge about magical creatures, we should go to the Malfoy Manor instead. I have it on good authority that they have a rather extensive collection of books in their library, and it wouldn't hurt to take a look. Honestly, I think it sounds like a good idea."

Neville switched his gaze from Hermione to the tattered book on the table in front of him, glared at it, and looked back at Hermione.

"I'm in." He said. "When do we leave?"

Hermione grinned and turned to look at Draco who was leaning against the wall. He raised an eyebrow and looked pleased when she gave him a thumbs up.

"Tomorrow after classes," Hermione stated. "Pack for the weekend!" She called over her shoulder as she went to join Draco.

Friday's classes went quickly. Hermione and Draco only had three different classes and when the last one (Transformation) ended at lunch, they both hurried out of the classroom to get their packed bags from their dorms.

Hermione was visibly nervous but she did not respond to Draco's inquiries so he let her be and they got into a conversation about the different houses and the lack of interaction between them, as they waited for Neville to show up.

It wasn't long before their conversation was interrupted by a panting Neville who had obviously run the entire way there. He was flustered and had to lean against the wall to catch his breath.

"You're late," Draco told him jokingly, and chuckled at the vicious glare he received from the other boy.

"I accidently… Told Harry…" Neville panted and tried to slow his breathing, "Who told Seamus, who told Ron. So I had to run to escape his yelling. He's not happy." He straightened up, seemingly having had time to catch his breath.

Hermione frowned slightly and turned to Draco.

"Then we better go before he comes here to yell again." She was looking uncomfortable already and he was quick to agree.

"Let's go then," he said, and gestured to a golden locket lying on the ground in front of them.

"On three." Hermione and Neville both grabbed the portkey and nodded in conformation.

"One." Draco said and activated the portkey with a smug glint in his eye. They all felt the uncomfortable pull of something like a hook beneath the navel, and half a second later they were standing in front of a massive steel gate.

Hermione glared at Draco and his smug smirk, "a little warning next time?" she asked. His smirk widened as he said, "now, where's the fun in that?" and turned towards the gate. Hermione reached a helping hand to Neville, who had tripped in the sudden landing and they both shared an exasperated look before looking at the surroundings.

They were standing outside a grey stone wall by a gate which was approximately 4 meters tall and shaped as a tree with a slightly Celtic design. The walls were covered with growing vines, most in bloom and covered with beautiful purple flowers, which seemed to be humming with the wind, despite the near freezing degrees outside. Behind the gate a garden was visible, large, green, and extravagant. A light grey stone lane lead from the gate, through the garden and directly to the stairs of an enormous mansion.

Hermione became aware of her mouth standing open as she stared openly at the building in front of her. It was painted white with dark mahogany windows and details. There were towers. Towers! The entire mansion was almost the size of Hogwarts.

Hermione gaped and only became aware of it when Draco chuckled beside her and she turned to raise an eyebrow at him.

"How many people live here?" She asked.

Draco smirked at her obvious awe and answered, "Three; my mother, my father and myself."

He seemed to bask in her disbelief and turned to Neville who looked impressed but far less stunned than his friend.

"Welcome to the Malfoy Manor." Draco said with a grand gesture of his hand, "Shall we go?" he asked and opened the gate with a twitch of his wand. Draco led them as they walked along the lane to the front doors of the mansion.

Hermione was still in awe but she somehow managed to stop her staring and turn down the disbelief in her expression.

As they approached the door they were interrupted by an exclamation from the gardens to their right.

"Draco, darling," a gentle and soft female voice called, "Is that you?" Hermione tried to see the person talking but they were effectively hidden behind the tall hedges of rose bushes which surrounded the entire garden in a maze-like pattern.

"Yes, Mother," Draco responded quickly, and headed towards the sound through an opening in the rose bushes. He had not yet reached it before a beautiful woman stepped out into view. She had pale, silverish hair, startling grey eyes and pale skin, which was accentuated by the dark blue long flowing coat she was wearing.

Hermione recognized her immediately as Narcissa Malfoy and was almost shocked by the youthful look of the older woman. Narcissa seemed young and almost carefree as she approached the three and embraced her son.

Draco did not seem to be embarrassed by the show of affection as he hugged her back immediately before stepping back and introducing her to the two guests.

"Mother, I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. We'll be staying here for the weekend."

Narcissa nodded gracefully at them both and smiled, a gesture which Hermione returned tentatively.

Possibly sensing the girl's discomfort Narcissa returned her gaze to her son and stated that they were free to stay as long as they please.

"I'll be in the green drawing room if you have need of me," She stated before leaving the same way she came.

"The green drawing room?" Hermione asked, though she was scared of the answer she'd receive.

"Well, we also have a blue, red and mahogany one so they're easy to confuse." Draco responded as he led them into the opening hall, a grand room with dark floors and a high ceiling from which hung a shining chandelier.

Hermione shook her head and muttered "of course they are" while ignoring Draco's sniggering. Neville did not say a word as he studied the interior of the house. He seemed nervous and tense; much like Hermione was; only she hid it better. Draco noticed it anyway and quickly gestured for them to follow him as he walked up a staircase and led them towards the left wing and the library.

As they walked Neville relaxed more, but Hermione became more and more tense until she came to a complete stop as they entered a large living room with dark walls and another chandelier in the ceiling. The two men managed to get halfway through the room before they noticed that she was not with them. Draco spun around immediately with wide eyes when he realized and Neville went rigid in a second when he noticed where they were.

Hermione was standing perfectly still in the doorway, her shoulders raised in a defensive manner and her left hand twitched towards her right arm where, until recently, she had been marred by the horrible memory of what had happened inside this exact room.

Draco was now looking downright horrified and he quickly strode to her side with long steps. Tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder and exhaled in relief when she did not in fact push him away or start screaming but rather buried her face in his chest and closed her arms around him.

He lowered his head and kissed the top of hers while whispering into her hair, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't think, I'm so sorry."

Neville shuffled towards them as well and Hermione held out her hand for him to join them and in the end they were all standing there in a safe embrace, calming each other. Draco didn't stop apologizing until Hermione straightened up and let him go, slowly building up the strength to look around the room a second time.

Neville was more hesitant and in the end they managed to compromise by holding each other's hands while they faced the room which had been a place of nightmares for them both a short year ago. Draco was still looking embarrassed of himself and was shuffling his feet until Hermione grabbed his hand as well and sent him a tearstained smile.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think-" he started again, but Hermione squeezed his hand and gently stated, "You didn't realize, it's okay. It's just a room."

She looked around and though her gaze did linger on the (new) carpet beneath the chandelier she seemed mostly calm and collected.

Neville nodded and continued, "It's over now. We're alive and we are okay."

Draco eyed them both but nodded then and gestured for them to leave the room. If they all hurried a bit more than before, it was unspoken and mutually agreed upon.

They reached the library shortly after the incident and while it was not forgotten it was pushed back in their minds as they approached the tall doors which led into the room.

Draco was behaving like his normal self again and he turned to the two others with a smirk as he warned them; "Do try not to faint at the sight? That especially goes for you, Granger," he chuckled at Hermione's glare and shrugged carelessly, "well, don't say I didn't warn you."

He opened the doors dramatically, and stepped into the library. Hermione felt lightheaded when she got a good look at the interior.

The walls were all covered in bookshelves, all the way to the high ceiling and around the room were books. Tall windows with white flowing curtains were positioned between the shelves along the outer wall and they let in the pale light of the December sun which lit the entire room in a way that would have been cold, had it not been for the floating candles which were everywhere in the air.

While she knew she was gaping again, Hermione could not bring herself to care. Not even when Draco giggled at her. She was in heaven!

Vaguely aware of her two companions she trailed after them into the room where, behind a shelf, a reading area was revealed, complete with comfortable looking chairs, tables for tea and a fireplace which was already lit and warm.

Overwhelmed by it all, Hermione squealed like a proper teenage girl and clapped her hands over her mouth when she realized what she had done and tried to regain her composure even as both Draco and Neville were now howling with laughter.

Hermione tried (in vain) to frown sternly at them both but could not hold the mask and started to giggle as well.

It was another fifteen minutes before they all regained their breath and managed to stop laughing.


End file.
